Stuck
by i.is.human
Summary: After they depart from El Dorado, Miguel, Tulio, Chel and Altivo are quickly captured by Cortes' men. Told mostly from Miguel's POV. It's a little slashy at times, you have been warned, and Chel doesn't play a very big part. Please R and R!
1. Capture

"Are you sure we're going the right way?" Tulio asked suspiciously, leaning over the map. Altivo leaned over his shoulder to stare at the map as well.

"Sure I'm sure. At least, I'm pretty sure," Miguel replied, scrutinizing the map.

"Tulio, darling," Chel purred, twirling his pony-tail around her finger playfully, "relax. Everything will be fine." Miguel tried to focus more on the map, ignoring the two.

Tulio was becoming more and more immune to Chel, and she was nearly unable to con him with a provocative shake if her hips anymore. He reached over Miguel's shoulder and flipped the map upside-down.

"Oh, that makes more sense!" the blond chirped, beaming.

"Oh, great!" Tulio groaned.

"Oh, come now, Tulio, it's not so bad. It's an adventure!"

"It's been an adventure since we left!" the brunette cried, waving his hands in the air. The rest of the group turned to him with critical looks, to which he responded by rolling his eyes and shaking his head. "Fine, fine, I'll keep my grumblings to myself," he muttered.

As they continued their walk towards the next city, (which was ruled by Aztecs, whatever those were,) they started to hear footsteps. Hoof-beats, Miguel decided, ahead of them. There were a lot of horses. When it got to the point that they were very clear, Tulio suddenly looked straight ahead and stopped walking. Everyone turned to look at him.

"Miguel and Chel, I want you two to get on Altivo right now and run."

"What?" Chel asked, already clambering on the horse. "Why?"

"Just do it!" Tulio hissed. Miguel scrambled onto the horse, who looked Tulio right in the eye. "Start running. Stop when you can't go any further, and then camp out for the night. If I'm not here when you get back..." he trailed off, and then shook his head. "Don't worry."

"What about you?" Miguel asked.

"Harder to run with three people," Tulio replied, grabbing the lowest branch of a tree. He climbed it quickly. "Go now!" he growled. Altivo took off.

They'd hardly been running a minute before Miguel said quietly, "maybe we should go back."

"No," Chel whispered. "He said to keep going."

"But I'm worried. Why would he want us gone?" Miguel asked. Altivo snorted, and slowed to a walk. He was clearly not tired.

"Come on," Chel hissed, leaning into Miguel to try to look around him at the horse. "Get moving!" She looked between him and Miguel, before she relented, saying, "Fine, let's go back!"

Miguel smiled, proud of himself, and Altivo turned around, exuding victory. They trotted back gradually, Chel muttering about how Miguel was going to get them killed, that Tulio had his reasons and that he'd be fine. Miguel, no matter how attractive she was, felt like throwing her off the horse and telling her that if she had such a problem with it that she could go walk the other way and be safe.

Altivo paused just before the path, staying hidden in the trees. As the three looked onto the path, only two understood the graveness of what they saw and only one could sum it up in words.

"Cortez," Miguel murmured. Chel did a double take. They'd told her of Cortez's ruthlessness, and when she leaned around Miguel once more, she apparently understood. She began muttering something to Miguel that he barely understood, as she was speaking too quietly to be heard. That and he was much more focused on the armor-clad man himself. Or, more specifically, the smaller, skinny man that he held off the ground by his shirt-front.

"You're one of the unholy heathens that escaped my ship before you punishment was properly fulfilled," he said. Cortez's voice was difficult to describe, because he didn't hiss, or growl and he wasn't particularly loud, but it sounded like thunder, and the deep bass could be felt right in the chest when he spoke. If one wished to find a better verb for the act of speech for him, they might say "he rumbled".

Tulio feigned innocence, which earned him a good shaking. Deciding quickly that that wasn't going to work, he outright challenged the taller man, his voice drifting over to the three who remained hidden. "Yeah, and? What do you plan on doing about it?" Cortez smiled sadistically.

"What I plan to do will make you beg me to grant you your darkest nightmares as punishment instead."

"No!" Miguel cried, steering Altivo out of the trees. Chel hung on for dear life, while Tulio raised one of the hands that gripped Cortez's forearms to his face, in a tell-tale "you idiot" sign. Miguel glared defiantly at the rich Spaniard.

"Ah, the other one, and my horse, and a native girl," Cortez purred. Miguel shivered a little at the ominous amusement in the man's voice. "Men! Tie them all up and watch them! Their torture will be our entertainment on the way home!" Cheers rose from the soldiers, and the nearest ones roughly grabbed Chel and Miguel and bound their wrists. They were sat back onto Altivo with the other ends of their ropes tied to the saddle of one of the riders. Tulio was put on last, behind Chel, who started to defend herself.

"I didn't want to come back. They made me. I wasn't about to wander around the forest alone and-"

"Yes, yes, these two have a horrible habit of ruining my plans, I know I know, I didn't think for a moment that they'd listen anyways." He smiled around Chel at Miguel, who looked back just in time to see it. "I can always hope. But it doesn't get me too far. They worry too much." This shut the girl up successfully, a feat which Miguel had admittedly been trying to do since they'd begun their trek, and since they'd run into a native who had given them the map. Apart from the rope digging into his wrists painfully, and their obvious doom, he found a small happiness in her silence. Hooray for silver lining.

He was going to need it.


	2. Betrayal

The men must not have been particularly superstitious, bringing Chel on the ship with them. Miguel distinctly recalled someone somewhere telling him that "women on ships are bad luck". They seemed totally alright with her being there, and since they decided that she was technically innocent of everything and anything, just having her below deck to help the cook was enough punishment for her for associating with the conmen.

They, on the other hand, were tossed back into the brig with no food, no water, and some stale smelling and slightly damp straw. It was exactly as they both remembered it, and neither of them was looking forward to another stay.

They'd managed to avoid being flogged the first time, as they'd escaped shortly after they'd been captured, (about ten days in) and the crew members had been too busy rowing. They'd actually escaped the flogging by mere hours, as the crew had been ready to do it first thing the morning after their escape.

This time they weren't so lucky. Cortes' first order was to have them flogged immediately, twenty lashes each. Mercifully, Miguel and Tulio were knocked unconscious before getting onto the ship. Something about the crew not wanting them to see where they anchored the ship, for when they returned to the New World, they couldn't sabotage the ship.

Miguel woke up after Tulio did, and pretended to still be out as he listened to Tulio and a guard nearby.

"Give me his share," Tulio begged the guard, who chuckled.

"Greedy little man, aren't you?" he asked. He sounded like a big guy, Miguel thought. What was Tulio asking for?

"I'll make you a deal. You roll for it." Miguel couldn't quite hear which one was win and which one was lose, but he could catch, "Just his," and "triple his, triple yours, and all the..." He didn't catch the last part, either.

Tulio rolled, and the guard made a happy noise. "You lose," he told the brunette gleefully. He stood up and opened the door to the brig, leaving Tulio sitting in the pool of light that came in through the hole in the ceiling with bars across it to keep them from escaping. Miguel waited a few minutes before he yawned and stretched.

"You ready for a good flogging?" he asked. Tulio smiled tiredly.

"You bet I am," his friend replied, standing up and walking over to the blond. Miguel sat up.

"You think Chel will spring us?" he asked.

"No, she's chained to the table in the kitchen, just in case," Tulio told him, shaking his head.

Miguel pondered this for a few minutes, and then asked, "You've got a plan, right?"

Tulio looked around the brig and found a familiar wooden support. He started banging his head on it. "Not yet," he replied. Miguel laughed.

Food was dropped down, some dry bread crusts and a single cup of dirty water. The two men looked at it hungrily, before Tulio looked at Miguel with a slightly guilty expression and muttered, "Uh, you take it."

Miguel looked up at Tulio, and then back at the food that was barely enough for one. "You sure?"

"Yeah, I'm... not hungry," Tulio said, shuffling away.

"Alright." As Miguel chomped down on the bread crusts and drank the disgusting water, he debated about Tulio's bet. Looking down at the rations, he realized a sad truth: It had been about food. Of course it was; what else could it have been? There wasn't a lot for prisoners, and this time the food seemed to be cut in half. "_Just his..._" the guard's voice haunted him; he shook his head. Tulio's guilty face just proved it. He'd lost. This was all the food they were getting, and Tulio had tried to take his share. Miguel glared at him.

He'd forgiven Tulio for going with Chel, for breaking his promise that she was off limits. They'd both regretted the fight, and had made up one night when Chel was asleep. But even when he'd done that, Miguel had understood. He hadn't meant "forget Miguel" quite that way, just that he hadn't wanted to share Chel. He still treated him like an equal party of the group. Also, Chel was hard to ignore, and he had left them alone in the temple. He would have done the same.

Miguel had never expected a betrayal like this. Tulio was a good man, he assured himself. There was something he was missing, surely. Yes, something...

But there was nothing else.

Tulio was a back stabber, and he'd have to do something big to get back into Miguel's good graces. He'd never known his best friend to think only of himself. They usually thought of each other as one unit. There was no just Miguel. No just Tulio. It was Miguel and Tulio, Tulio and Miguel, to the very end.

Apparently he was the only one who thought so.


	3. Confrontation

"Flogging time!" someone called happily. Miguel turned to see the guard whom Tulio had been talking to. He grimaced. Three burly sailors followed him, two men to bind and lead one of the prisoners. Miguel just caught Tulio muttering to one of his guards, "Please. Don't let him know." The guard nodded.

Once they reached the deck, they were forced to stand side by side. Cortes made an appearance, looking from the brunette to the blond and back again. "The fair one first. He'll scream more." Nodding obediently, the sailors on Miguel pulled him over to the mast. They took off his shirt and tied his hands to the solid column of wood, and then one of Tulio's guards stepped forward with a whip of braided leather, with tiny pieces of metal imbedded into it, made just for tearing apart skin and drawing blood. When the guard stepped close to him, just to inspect the ropes around his wrists, Miguel heard Tulio whisper harshly, "The look, Miguel! Give him the look!" Miguel wasn't stupid; he did what he was told, on the off chance that the guard would take pity on him. Cortes growled something about the hold up, when the guard stepped away and said, "I can't do it. Just look at his face." He walked over to Cortes and had a short conversation with him. Cortes argued that it wouldn't be fair to the brunette to be whipped. The guard said something quietly, and Cortes nodded. He gave a signal with a sweep of his hand, a grin on his face, and Miguel was again knocked unconscious.

When he woke, Tulio lay beside him, facing him. He looked at his friend's sleeping face. Forced sleep or no, Miguel loved Tulio's face when he wasn't awake. He didn't look angry, and he didn't look worried. The deep lines in his forehead from bunching his brows together were completely erased. The only face he liked better was when Tulio was happy, but that one didn't appear often, because he usually appeared worried when he was concentrating, which he did when they scammed the townsfolk. The last time he'd been happy was the feast in El Dorado. Miguel wished it wasn't such a rare occurrence.

The blond reached out and tucked a stray piece of hair behind Tulio's ear. He let his fingers linger on the brunette's cheek for a moment. Tulio leaned into his hand, and Miguel held his breath hopefully. "Chel," Tulio murmured. Miguel took his hand away like it'd been bitten, and held it to himself. No, it didn't work that way. Tulio was with Chel. Tulio had _betrayed_ him. No matter how beautiful he was, Miguel wasn't going to show him any affection. He got a sick feeling right in the pit of his stomach, and promptly ignored it. As they'd gotten slowly closer, Miguel had begun to think of Tulio as much more than a friend. He'd kept this to himself, of course.

There was nothing else to do. He had a fitful sleep on the hard floor, while Tulio finally awoke and tried planning again. Somewhere in the middle of his sleep, Tulio must have been allowed above deck. "Probably for food," Miguel reasoned aloud, sneering. He couldn't sleep at all for a while, and then he heard the door creak open and a loud _thud _sounded beside him. He turned to see Tulio again, lying on his side, making a pained face.

"Why were you-" Miguel started.

"Sh, Miguel, go back to sleep. Don't worry about it." Miguel nodded grudgingly and turned away.

They continued in this way the next day, the taller man leaving while the shorter slept, returning and telling him not to worry, and to go to sleep. When the food came, Tulio insisted that Miguel eat it. "Keep up your strength. For the plan to work, you'll need to be energized. Eat." By Miguel's count it was their third day on the ship that Tulio was gone for much longer. When he returned, food was dropped down the hole the second he entered the room. Miguel looked from him to the food and back, and said "you eat it."

"Miguel, I told you," Tulio said, his face drawn. "You need your strength. There's not enough for two."

"It's been three days, Tulio. Eat." He looked the brunette up and down. He wasn't a broad man to begin with, but lately his cheeks were looking especially hollow and his eyes sunken with dark circles under them. Even as he observed this, the taller man sat down against the wooden support, shaking his head. "I'm not hungry, Miguel. Please, eat."

Miguel didn't make the plans. He didn't come up with the cons. But he'd seen enough of Tulio doing it to be able to form an idea in his head. "Alright, I'll eat." It was what his friend wanted to hear, so he dropped the subject, closed his eyes and leaned his head back. His breathing was shallow and pained.

Miguel picked up the bowl of bread crusts and wandered over, standing over Tulio. He looked down at him hatefully. Was this his way of making up for betting half the food away?

"Tulio, don't make me force you to eat this." Caught a little off guard, the brunette looked up, with a tired and startled expression.

"And how do you plan to do tha-" He was cut off by food being shoved down his throat.

His eyes widened, his eyebrows drew together, and he started choking on the dry food in his mouth. Miguel, however, shoved another piece in. Tulio brought his hands up to stop him, but the blond just grabbed the skinny wrists in one hand and held them to the support over his ex-best friend's head. He kept shoving food in, and Tulio ended up spitting what he couldn't swallow off to the side. Lastly, he splashed the water in his face, which managed to at least wash crumbs off.

Miguel still held Tulio's hands, and Tulio still sat there and choked. He didn't ask Miguel any questions, or even try to break the hold on his wrists. Miguel wondered vaguely if he even had the strength to do so if he did try. When he finally stopped coughing, Miguel lifted Tulio's face to meet his own. The brunette's head lolled back on his neck, as if there was nothing there to hold it in place. A little worried, Miguel let his arms fall to his sides. Tulio looked like a marionette whose strings had been cut. Miguel backed away. Tulio promptly fell over, lying on his side on the floor, shivering and curling in on himself like a scared child.

"What have I done?" the blond whispered to himself. He scrambled away from his ex-best friend, just to put some distance between them. He looked at his hands, and watched as a big fat tear fell into his palm. "What have I done?" he repeated, sobbing whole-heartedly now.

He slept fitfully that night, tossing and turning, dreaming of people laughing and Tulio's anguished screams. He half woke up somewhere in the middle, and the screaming didn't stop, but he realized he was still half asleep and ignored it.


	4. Fever

The next morning Miguel woke to a sickening thud echoing through the brig. He sat up and rubbed his eyes, thinking, momentarily and irrationally, that it was just food. He turned to look at Tulio, who wasn't where he'd left him.

He was by the door, as if he'd been dragged out and then tossed back in. Miguel stood up and walked over, pulling on his shoulder to get him on his back, and to see his face. He was unconscious, but unlike his usual sleeping face, which Miguel usually liked, he looked uncomfortable. Miguel knelt down beside him, grabbed his shoulders, and gave him a shake.

"Tulio. Tulio, wake up." The brunette opened his eyes with a groan, not focusing on anything. Miguel smacked him lightly on the cheek. He glanced at his hand, and then held it to the other man's face.

Tulio had a fever. He'd only ever had one that was this bad before, when they were children, when they'd first gotten away from that house...

_No, _Miguel, thought, mentally berating himself. _Don't think of that now._

"Tulio, look at me," Miguel said softly, turning his friend's face towards him. The brunette attempted to focus, squinting up at the blond.

"Miguel?" Tulio asked softly. "I feel like crap," he muttered.

"You have a fever," Miguel told him. "Take off your shirt; we need to bring your temperature down."

"No!" Tulio cried, scrambling away, "no, I'll sweat it out."

Miguel looked at him suspiciously. "Alright. But I want you to eat. You need your strength." Tulio nodded obediently, struggling to sit up. He then smiled.

"As long as you're not the one feeding me," he said with a chuckle.

Miguel scoffed. "You weren't eating, and it was wearing on my last nerve."

"Mmm, I suppose," the brunette replied, and then he turned and started banging his head on the support. Miguel had to laugh.

Tulio eventually fell asleep. It was a tortured sleep, with him tossing and turning, muttering incoherently, and lashing out. Miguel ran over after a few minutes to hold him down, to make sure he didn't hurt himself. Tulio was whimpering softly, shaking his head. "It hurts," he moaned. Miguel lifted his torso into his lap and leaned against the support. He ran his hands through his hair gently, letting the black as ink locks sift through his fingers. Tulio calmed slightly, murmuring his thanks, though whether he was in his right mind when he did so was debatable.

After few minutes of calm breathing, Miguel's thoughts shifted from worry to just thinking about whatever came to mind. At the forefront of his brain was that night that they'd escaped. He shook his head to clear it, but to no avail. Steeling himself, he let his thoughts drift over that period of time restlessly, because it wasn't going away.

Miguel was running through the hallways of the hacienda excitedly, peeking into rooms, looking for the son of the maid. He was visiting his rich uncle; not that he wasn't well off to begin with, but he didn't get butlers to wake him and maids to wash his clothes. He loved it when his mother decided to pay her brother a visit. He got to see his favourite person in the world.

"Tulio!" he exclaimed, catching sight of the boy scrubbing at the floor in one of the sitting rooms. He ran in and tackled him, just when he'd sat back on his heels and rubbed sweat off his forehead.

"Hey!" the brunette cried, struggling to sit up. Miguel had him pinned to the floor with his arms still wrapped around him. The blond giggled.

"You look like a girl," Miguel teased, rolled off and propping his head on his hand.

Tulio looked down at himself. He was wearing an apron and a kerchief, but some strands of black hair had still managed to escape and stick to his forehead. "You look like a girl," he replied, picking up a piece of blond hair and tickling Miguel's nose with it.

"At least I don't dress like one."

"My clothes are dirty enough as it is!" he argued back. Miguel just kept laughing. "I wish I didn't have to do anything like you, Miguel," he growled. Miguel sobered.

"I do have to do things!"

"Yeah! Learn to play the guitar and read and write!"

"I've been trying to teach you!" Miguel snapped. He held Tulio's hands in his, pulling him up to his feet. He then turned them over and looked at them. They were callused and worn-looking, unlike Miguel's whose fingertips only had calluses from playing guitar. He gripped them tightly, and the brunette winced.

"I'm sorry, and thank you for trying to teach me. I'm just upset because it seems like the chores are getting harder. I haven't slept much because I'm always working." Miguel nodded his understanding. His aunt was a horrible tyrant to his friend. She had low opinions on servants and their families, and he'd seen her hit Tulio before. He'd run away crying, telling his mom and his uncle, who'd both been shocked. Aunt Adriana had just said that servants needed to know their place, and that Tulio had been neglecting his chores. Miguel had argued that he was bored and needed someone to play with. He'd then gotten into trouble for getting Tulio in trouble, though he was only told off. When he'd gone to the other boy to apologize, by order of his mother, his friend had still had an angry red mark on his face. Miguel had hugged him and cried for his sake, because Tulio had admitted long ago that he was sure he'd forgotten how to cry.

Miguel got an idea. "Let's go to the stables again today! I'll teach you more things!"

Tulio shook his head. "I have to finish here, and then I have to go help with lunch, and then do the dishes, and then do the laundry, and then –"

"Why do you have to do all the chores?" Miguel demanded. Tulio's face darkened.

"Because my mom died a month ago, and I'm filling in for her."

Miguel's eyes teared up. "I'm sorry; I didn't realize how long it'd been since I'd visited. I didn't think she'd ever..." The little boy started crying, and the brunette dropped his rag and hugged him.

"She told me not to be sad that she'd gone, but to be glad that she was around for so long." He patted his friend's back reassuringly.

"But she's gone, Tulio. I can't even – _hic_ – imagine what it'd be like–"

"You insolent little pest!" screamed an enraged woman's voice. In the blink of an eye, the scrawny little arms of the twelve year old boy that had been wrapped around Miguel were ripped from him. He watched his friend be thrown to the ground, his head hitting the tile with a _crack!_ He sat up, winded, and looked around dazedly.

"Adriana?" called another woman's voice. It was softer, with a more motherly hint to it, and the willowy blond woman who came in the door after her sister-in-law gasped at what she saw. "Miguel, baby, what's wrong?"

"This little rat made him cry!" Adriana screeched, pointing at Tulio with a claw-like finger. "And he was _hugging _him! Miguel, go wash up, before you catch a disease or something!"

Miguel ran to his mother and buried his face in her skirt. "His mama died!" he sobbed, reverting to the younger version of mom in his vulnerable state. Olivia's eyes widened with shock.

"How long ago?" she asked Tulio.

Surprised at being spoken to, the brunette replied softly, "a month." Hugo rounded the corner, looking from one woman to the next with a confused expression.

"Adriana, he's a child! Leave him time to mourn!" Olivia told her sister-in-law.

"A month is enough!"

"A month for what?" Hugo asked.

"His mother passed away a month ago, and you have him working? Brother, I'm disappointed in you."

"Don't look at me!" Hugo sputtered, looking at his wife. He then looked down at Tulio, still sprawled on the floor. "How would you like to join us for lunch, young man?"

Everyone in the room looked at the man of the house, shocked, and asked, "What?"

"A strong man like that needs something to eat. Working an adult's load, and not even crying about his mother, he's a good little soldier. I won't have him fainting from hunger." The blond man nodded decidedly, looking around at everyone. He walked up to Tulio and grabbed his hand, then walked away with him. They didn`t look anything alike, but considering the proud glow around Hugo and the fact that he hadn`t yet been blessed with children of his own, Tulio might've been his son.

Olivia left Adriana to simmer by herself, Miguel still sniffling and holding onto her skirt. When he glanced back at her, he could have sworn his aunt was waving her arms and stomping her feet in a silent fit. Despite the fact that he'd been crying a moment earlier, the little blond boy giggled.

Author's Note: Wow that got looooong. Wait for part two of them as kids! It will be up soon!


	5. Sweet Dreams

Lunch was a little uncomfortable, not that Miguel cared. Olivia was speaking politely with her brother, Adriana was glaring daggers at Tulio, and the poor child in question was torn between trying not to inhale the food, ignoring the death glares from across the table, and listening to Miguel.

"And then you can try reading Genesis, and rewrite the Psalms, and then I can teach you some new music and you can learn to sing along-"

"Do you know how to read and write, Tulio?" Hugo asked politely, stopping the boys' one-sided conversation in its tracks. The brunette glanced up sharply.

"Not well, sir."

"I've been teaching him!" Miguel boasted. "He's a fast learner," he added. Olivia covered her laugh with her hand.

"Really, now?" Hugo questioned, his eyes never leaving Tulio's. "How do you spell my name, young man?"

"H-U-G-O," Tulio replied automatically.

"And yours?"

"T-U-L-I-O."

"Can you write that?" Hugo asked, leaning forward. He extracted a piece of parchment and some charcoal from his pocket and handed them to Tulio. The boy quickly scribbled out his name.

"Not bad, though the 'O' could be a little rounder," the man murmured, rubbing his short beard. Tulio nodded, sinking into his chair. "I'm only joking, boy!" Hugo chuckled, patting his shoulder lightly. The brunette brightened.

That night, Tulio was made to stay in the guest bedroom with Miguel. He slept soundly, much to the discontent of his friend, who was ecstatic to be able to spend more time with him. He'd been bathed and given one of Miguel's nightgowns to borrow, and had spent a good half hour reading bits of the Bible, parts that he was supposed to remember. He'd rolled over and fallen asleep after Psalm 22 the fifth time around.

Miguel was just dosing off, his arms wrapped tightly around Tulio, when he felt his friend shudder violently. He cracked an eye open and saw fingers wrapped around the brunette's neck, squeezing the life out of him.

"Servants should know their place," Adriana was chanting. Miguel screamed and grabbed the brass candlestick and swung it at his aunt's arm. She cried out when it connected, and he grabbed Tulio and their clothes and ran out the door, down a hallway, and out of the house. He could hear his aunt sobbing, telling his mother and uncle, "The servant boy attacked me! Attacked me with a candlestick! I was just walking by! He kidnapped Miguel. Just started dragging him away. . ."

Miguel and Tulio got dressed outside and ran into the streets, where they wandered into the shadier parts of town and ran into some rough looking characters. Tulio, as it turned out, was good at gambling; he won them some money and rented them a cheap room. It was cold, and Tulio heaped the covers on Miguel, telling him that he was going to catch a cold. Tired and scared, Miguel quickly fell asleep.

The next morning, however, it seemed that Tulio had caught the bug. He sneezed a few times, and as the day wore on and the boys tried to find their way back, he started to cough. Finally he agreed to spend the bit of money that he'd won to buy some food, and the nice lady at the bar that served them agreed with Miguel; Tulio was sick. "It is almost winter," she reasoned. She then brought the boys into her home, where she put Tulio to bed in her son's old room.

For the next few days, Miguel worked in the bar, earning a bit of money and paying the nice lady. The patrons liked him, and he was surprised that they weren't all evil, murdering cons. Some were sailors, while others did have prices on their heads, but they were plenty nice to him, and managed to make him laugh. They tipped big, even though lots of times Miguel just sat with them and listened to their stories. He heard of their adventures and told them that one day, he'd have adventures, too. The men laughed and wished him the best of luck. Miguel's days were good.

His nights, however, weren't so good. Tulio was getting worse, and no matter what the nice lady or any of the patrons did to try to help, the skinny boy was progressively becoming more and more ill, instead of getting better. On the fifth night, Miguel walked in to find him not moving. He thought he was sleeping, but his chest didn't move.

"Tulio!" he cried, running over and hugging his friend. The brunette's head fell back, dark bangs brushing the bed. "Don't die on me, Tulio!"

"I'm not dying, and quit yelling in my ear," Tulio rasped. Miguel dropped him in surprise, eliciting a grunt from his friend.

"You're alive?"

"Of course I'm alive."

"Oh, darling, thank God!"

"What did you call me?"

"Darling?" Miguel raised his eyebrows, confused. Tulio smiled.

"I like that," he murmured, closing his eyes.

The door to the room opened, and Olivia walked in, looking scared and upset. "Miguel! I've been looking for you for days!" She glared at Tulio. "We feed you and cloth you and put a roof over your head, and this is how you repay us? By assaulting Adriana and kidnapping my son?"

The nice lady walked in and whispered, "Please be quiet, he's very sick –"

"I'm sick! Sick with worry for my son, who is only here in this place because of him!"

"Mom, I hit auntie." Olivia's head swivelled in Miguel's direction.

"What?" she asked. Miguel bit his lip.

"She was choking Tulio, so I hit her with the candlestick, grabbed Tulio and ran," he explained.

Olivia seemed to be in shock. Recovering, she said, "Alright, time to go home."

"No!" Miguel cried, drawing away.

"No?"

"No. I want to stay with Tulio. I don't want Aunt Adriana to hurt him anymore. I want to go on adventures. I want to have wonderful adventures!"

Olivia's face softened. "I thought you'd be leaving me so much later in life," she whispered. A tear ran down her cheek. She hugged and kissed her son. "Go on and have adventures. Take care of your friend. Remember me and your father in your travels, darling, and may you live a long and happy life." She hugged and kissed him again, and he returned the parting wishes with tears in his eyes as well.

Years later, Miguel heard during a little scam that a beautiful woman named Olivia had passed away and that many people had gathered for her funeral. Her husband died shortly afterwards, within a few days. Despite knowing this, Miguel was happy. He'd known, somehow, that his parents had died painlessly in their sleep, with sweet dreams.

Holding onto Tulio now, with his laboured breathing and high fever, he remembered how he'd felt when he'd been worried that his friend was dead. He ran his fingers through his hair gently and murmured, "Sweet dreams, my darling." In this moment, he didn't care that he'd been betrayed. Right now, he loved his partner, and nothing could change that.


	6. Escape

Miguel woke up to find that Tulio had gotten away. He was lying, unmoving, across the brig, and just when Miguel's worry overcame his anger at Tulio and he'd decided to go and see what was wrong, the door to their prison opened. In walked a guard, who pulled Tulio to his feet roughly by his arm and dragged him away. He didn't look back.

When he heard a commotion above deck, Miguel listened carefully. It was the dawn of the fifth day, and the sunrise made everything that he could see above him orange and pink. He heard laughing from the crew members and the occasional cheer. Then Cortes' voice boomed over the other noises.

"Prove that you're not a heathen," he thundered, and in the pause between his words, Miguel caught a jingling noise, like a belt or something. "Recite the forty-eighth Psalm." Expecting to hear Chel's voice, Miguel sat back down on the ground. Of course she wouldn't know the Psalms. Neither he nor Tulio had bothered to teach her. What would it have mattered while they explored the New World?

So he was incredibly surprised to hear Tulio's voice ring out, loud and clear, reciting dutifully, "Great is the Lord, and greatly to be praised in the city of our God, in the mountain of his holiness." His jaw dropping his shock, Miguel scrambled to his feet and jumped for the bars, his fingers just grazing them. He tried a few more times and finally caught them, and hoisted himself up, just seeing from the head to the waist on the sailors gathered. He saw the side of Tulio's head, just to his nose, and saw his dead eyes stare into the distance. It was an eerie thing to see, his friend unmoving, reciting the words like a man possessed. Cortes grabbed a handful of his hair and yanked him upwards. Miguel just caught the barest glimpse of his lower jaw before he was thrown to the ground. Eyes squeezed shut, teeth clenched, Tulio did not cry out. The blond who watched from the brig felt an odd sense of pride.

"Say the word!" _Thunk! _"Say it! Repent!" _Thunk! _Dropping to the floor, Miguel covered his ears, not wanting to hear the sound of the brunette being kicked in the stomach. He'd seen the first mate's leg swinging, and could still hear the jeers of the other sailors as they cheered him on.

"Never!" Tulio ground out.

"Say it!"

"No!"

Miguel heard someone draw their sword. "Say it or I'll jab out your eyes!"

"_Go ahead!_" Tulio roared.

"Why you little –" There was an odd sound, kind of wet, like something one might hear in a butcher's shop. Miguel panicked, thinking they had stabbed out Tulio's eyes, but then he heard people muttering about a leg.

"There's so much blood," murmured a nearby sailor excitedly. "Hey, heathen, does your thigh hurt?"

"Not at all," Tulio responded.

"Put him back in the brig!" Cortes bellowed, sounding very upset. There was the clinking of chains and buckles, and then some footsteps on the stairs. The lock turned, the door opened, and Tulio walked in with his head held high. Miguel saw two puncture wounds under his chin, a hole in his left thigh that gushed blood, and bruised, bloodied wrists from being bound. When the door closed, Tulio leaned against it and slid down.

"What happened?" Miguel demanded, running over. Tulio shook his head, taking the belt from his pants and making a tourniquet. "Don't tell me not to worry and to go back to sleep, Tulio! What the hell happened?"

Tulio opened his mouth to explain, thought better of it, and sat quietly for a moment. Miguel knew that he was coming up with a sufficient lie.

"They caught me trying to pick the lock with a wood splinter," he muttered. Miguel, enraged that he refused to tell the truth, punched him in the face as hard as he could without thinking. Tulio's head hit the door hard, and he slumped to the floor, unconscious. Miguel stomped away, not even caring anymore.

On the night of the tenth day, Altivo was allowed above deck to wander. Being the smart horse he was, he immediately retrieved keys and dropped them into the brig. Miguel woke to the clink of metal, smiled and whispered up his thanks. Altivo snorted.

Though he was still angry with him, he woke Tulio and ran up ahead of him, before ducking into another door to search below deck for Chel. He found her in the room of one of the guards, looking relaxed and happy on his bed beside him. Miguel was just glad that she had clothes on.

She woke up and looked at him, then told him that she didn't want to escape, that she wanted to see Spain, and that she was treated well here. Miguel glared.

"I'm sorry, Miguel, but I don't want to leave. I like it here."

"What about Tulio?" Chel blushed, and then giggled.

"There's more where he came from." The blond felt like his heart had been torn to shreds, and he didn't even really like Chel. He made an obscene gesture, called her something rude, and left. She didn't seem to care.

He found Tulio leaning heavily on Altivo with provisions already in the longboat which dangled from ropes over the water. The brunette grinned weakly.

Miguel looked at him, and then down at the tourniquet around his thigh. Why did it have to be so high up? Miguel stared a moment more, then shook his head. Such thoughts, and at a time like this? He gestured for Tulio to get in the boat, but Altivo took this as his invitation. He jumped in willingly, making a loud _clack_ sound. Tulio rolled his eyes and climbed in, and Miguel joined them last.

They slowly lowered the boat to the water, and then they pulled the ropes down with them, just in case they needed them for something.

The water was not kind to them. The storm was minutes away, and unless they got away from the ship now, they'd be bashed against it. Tulio picked up a paddle and started rowing. Miguel quickly followed suit.

They got a couple of yards away when the first bolt of lightning streaked across the sky overhead. Rain started to beat down on them, and when the alarm bell was rung to call all hands, the water was throwing the little longboat quite roughly upwards and then leaving it to plummet. The two could hear shouting and promptly ignored it, until Cortes started bellowing at his men, enraged. It took a moment for Miguel to understand, and when he did, he started shouting at Tulio.

"Row faster!" Miguel ordered, just as Cortes' voice rang out, "Shoot!" Tulio did as he was told, and the two managed to paddle a few more yards away. They could still hear Cortes roaring, "Shoot! Shoot! Don't let them get away! Shoot!"

Miguel watched in horror as one man aimed and fired a crossbow at them. The arrow wasn't impeded by the rain, and he watched it, in shock, as it got closer and closer to his face, closer, oh, God, it was going to pin him right between the eyes! –

Then all he could see was a blue shirt.

Tulio's knees gave out, and a particularly large wave tilted the boat enough that the brunette tumbled overboard.


	7. Truth

Miguel lost sight of Cortes' ship behind a particularly large wave, and his tiny boat was thrown further away from the ship, which would have been good if it hadn't been for the increase in the distance between him and the drowning, unconscious brunette. Altivo was doing surprisingly well, all things considered, but the human of their party was freaking out.

He dove into the water, searching the murky depths for something, anything familiar – there! Right there, to the far left, he could have sworn he'd glimpsed a pale face. Surfacing to catch a full breath, Miguel dove again, swimming as hard as he could. His lungs burning as he reached Tulio, he waved his hand in front of his face. The water was even more unclear here. He opened his mouth to let out some air, and accidentally tasted it.

Blood. The water around Tulio's right shoulder was thick with warm blood. Miguel grabbed Tulio around the chest and swam upwards, his vision already clouding, his kicking growing weaker...

He broke the surface and gulped down air greedily, dog paddling his way to the boat. The waves seemed to be making up for their previous cruelty, as they pushed him towards it. Altivo leaned over and caught a mouthful of Tulio's shirt, yanking him roughly into the boat. He did the same for Miguel, although the blond half lifted himself.

Cortes was long gone by now, the waves having thankfully pushed them apart. The wind seemed to pass over them, leaving the water quite choppy, but not as turbulent as before. Though it was difficult to tell, the water seemed to push the little boat straight on in one direction, though the lack of sun or stars made it difficult to tell which point on the compass they were being directed to. The rain still came down in torrents, but it wasn't really an issue.

Breathing hard, Miguel finally sat up and looked down at Tulio. The brunette was lying on his side facing him, the arrow from the crossbow sticking out of his shoulder. Miguel gulped.

He lifted his friend onto the bench, carefully placing his limp torso slightly to the side, so the arrow hung off the bench and didn't get jammed further in. He leaned down over his face, checking for breath. There was none.

"Okay," Miguel said, a little nervously. Altivo nickered, shaking his head. Miguel glared. "Shut up." He tilted Tulio's head back and opened his mouth, and stopped. When he'd thought of kissing Tulio, it had never gone anything like this. A little flustered, he focused on how Tulio had betrayed him. It added a bit of indifference, and made it easier to ignore the giddy shivers that raced through him when he touched his mouth to his.

He breathed out harshly, sat up and pushed on Tulio's chest. His heart was beating, thank God. He did this a few more times, waiting impatiently, when finally there was coughing, and Tulio's eyes opened groggily. He blinked up at Miguel, who went back to leaning over his head, (he'd been in the act of pushing on Tulio's chest again,) when the taller man tentatively told him, "Your skills could use some work." Miguel had to laugh at that.

They floated along in silence for a while, and he tried not to think of Tulio at all. Not the betrayal, not the mouth to mouth, and he often found himself dragging his eyes away from the tourniquet still high up on the man's leg. He hardly noticed the rain stop and the waves calm. He drifted off to sleep still deliberately not thinking about Tulio, and thinking of him as consequence.

When he woke, it was to the sound of shallow breathing and the feel of the sun beating down on him.

"What time is it?" he asked, sitting up. Tulio struggled to do the same.

"Around noon," he replied, looking straight up into the sun. "Where's Chel?" he whispered. Miguel shrugged.

"She wanted to stay."

"I should have known." The chuckle that followed made Miguel's skin crawl. It was too dark for Tulio. The sarcastic smirk on his face made him feel sick.

"Alright," he said, changing the subject. "Let's get that arrow out of you." He got an alarmed glance, and then a resigned nod.

"I'll need something to bite," Tulio pointed out. Miguel looked around.

"A rope?" he suggested. Tulio shook his head. "Okay, um... your belt?" Looking down, Tulio fumbled with the metal buckle on the leather strap around his leg. His right hand shook, and he paused.

"Let me do it," Miguel suggested. Tulio nodded.

He didn't even stop to think about it, but when his hands reached the belt, he realized just where he was putting them. Gritting his teeth, he undid the belt, pulling it from around the leg with both hands. Tulio, luckily, didn't seem to notice, or at least didn't pay attention to the fact that Miguel left his hand on his inner thigh a moment longer than necessary.

Folding the leather, he stuck it in Tulio's mouth while he was busy wiggling his foot as the blood flow went back to normal. He ordered him to turn around and the man grabbed onto the sides of the boat and tried to relax.

When Miguel gave the arrow a soft tug, Tulio tensed and let out a small groan. "On three I'm going to pull it straight out, okay?" Tulio glanced over his shoulder and nodded. "One," he started, gripping the arrow. "Three!" He ripped the arrow out as fast as he could, and a scream came out with it.

"I'm sorry, Tulio, but I had to." The brunette collapsed to the floor of the boat. "There's some wine back here. Take off your shirt and we'll pour it on. We can't have it getting infected." Tulio shook his head.

"No. It'll be fine."

"Tulio, don't be silly. Come on."

"No, Miguel."

"You leave me no choice," the blond replied. He forcefully turned Tulio around and lifted his shirt and vest over his head, and then turned him around again. He gasped.

Covering his back was over a hundred lashes, some bleeding slightly, and all of them badly infected. Tulio moaned.

"Tulio, why? Why did they..." Then Miguel understood. "You took my share."

"Three times yours, three times mine, and torture for entertainment. Yeah," Tulio said, nodding. His voice cracked.

Miguel looked at his face, shocked. Salt water that didn't come from the ocean was making streaks down his cheeks. Tulio was crying. "I'm sorry, Miguel. I couldn't let them do it to you. Not you." Despite how much it might have hurt him, he pulled him into a hug.

"You're an idiot," he said, petting his hair comfortingly. Tulio squeezed back and sobbed into his shoulder.

He felt horrible, but at the same time, the realization that he could trust Tulio again made him unspeakably happy. Then a thought donned on him, and he became incredibly worried.

Tulio didn't cry. It just didn't happen. He'd cried in the boat when he thought he was going to die, but never before had Miguel seen him cry. Even when he was a child.

Suddenly very aware of Tulio's burning hot forehead pressed into his neck, he stopped to think. Did Tulio think he was going to die? His fever was still bad, and he was pretty beaten up. He must be scared... Gripping him tighter, enough that he worried about hurting him, Miguel whispered, "Don't worry darling. I'm not going to let you leave me. Not ever." He pressed a kiss to his hair, and tried to sooth his friend who shuddered with sobs. He hummed lightly and rocked him back and forth until he stopped crying and drifted off to sleep. Despite the sun, Miguel quickly did the same.


	8. Healing

When he woke, he found Tulio on his chest, the stray hairs tickling his neck. He had an arm around his shoulders, and was in no hurry to remove it. It was all he could do not to pull him closer, but he knew that it would hurt him.

He shifted carefully, because the bench was just digging into his side enough to be uncomfortable. He was leaning against the side of the boat, and with Tulio leaning this way, he was reminded of the times when he was still taller, before the boy he knew had hit a growth spurt that had made him even lankier than before. He remembered that his aunt had been particularly cruel, then. She must have been some sort of sadist.

Tulio noticed, but not enough to wake. Instead, the arm that was draped around Miguel's waist pulled back and the hand clutched his red shirt by his side. He quickly settled again.

Miguel changed his mind and lifted his arm, running his fingers through the black hair lazily. His heart skipped a beat when the usually uptight, cocky man _snuggled _into his chest and murmured his name. Altivo had to ruin the moment by neighing loudly, and Tulio woke with a snort.

"Time to get rowing," he mumbled, sitting up and grabbing an oar. Miguel rolled his eyes at Altivo, who made the horse equivalent of a laugh.

They continued like this for the next few days. They ran out of wine by the fifth day. Miguel had had to tie Tulio to the bench to pour the alcohol onto his wounds. With a lot of gasping and writhing, the brunette had managed to take it without screaming. The provisions ran out by the ninth day, and Miguel was starving. Tulio didn't complain, although the blond doubted he had the energy to. His stomach did, however, with it growling non-stop for hours on end. His fever hardly improved, and he spent more and more time resting after rowing. On the tenth day, when Miguel could just make out land, Tulio didn't row anymore. He hadn't even woken up that morning.

In the early morning of the eleventh day, they landed. Miguel got out and pulled the boat onto land, while Tulio, who was at the front of the boat, was asleep with his arms hanging out, and his hands dragged through the sand, which woke him up.

To the left was the boat that they'd left before. Tulio blinked at it sleepily, and then rolled over, muttering something about a "horrible, horrible nightmare." Miguel had to laugh.

"Come on, up on the horse," he ordered, pulling the sleepy brunette up. He didn't know how the man was still alive with all the blood loss, but somehow, with only a little drunken stumbling, Tulio managed to appear almost normal. "Er, do you remember the way?"

Tulio sighed and pulled Miguel up behind him with his left hand and started directing Altivo. It was hours before they reached the first landmark, but after that things continued smoothly. They didn't get turned around or lost, and the two days that they did spend in the jungle were spent mostly in companionable silence, although Tulio did continue to get weaker and weaker. By the time they reached the foggy area, Miguel was looking quite forward to seeing the city again, and getting Tulio some help.

The brunette had other plans. He turned Altivo right and headed that way.

"Tulio, where are you going?"

"We wrecked the entrance, remember? I'm just going by the mountains. We'll cut in through the back." Miguel beamed. His planner was back.

The people that caught sight of them coming down the side all ran away, and the village around them was perfectly deserted. Tulio lead them to the temple, where many people were gathered. Chief Tannibak emerged from a nearby doorway.

"My Lords," he murmured, running up quickly. Miguel jumped off Altivo and ran to meet the Chief, who gave him a big hug and announced to the people in a booming voice, "The Gods have returned!" A collective cheer rose at the announcement.

"Not Gods!" Miguel cried, not wanting the same mistake to be made again. "Just... your guests." The people looked at each other, and another cheer soon arose, louder than the first. Tulio could be seen straightening his vest nervously before riding over to the Chief. "Good to see you again."

"You, too, Lord Tulio. Might I ask, what happened to your clothes?" The blue shirt, upon inspection, was drenched in red, as were the pants, and the vest had a hole.

"Chief Tanni, Lord Tulio was hurt," Miguel explained, still a little giddy with excitement at being in the city again. He then looked to his partner, who didn't look as pleased. In fact, he looked dazed, blinking slowly at the shining city.

"Hurt? What happened?"

"The people we were trying to keep out of the city," Miguel explained, "captured us and tortured him."

"And what of Chel?"

"She stayed with them." The people gasped.

"Why did they only torture Lord Tulio?" Chief Tanni asked suspiciously.

"Because he took my share, and then some," Miguel murmured, not wanting too many to hear. "Chief Tanni, he needs help. We've been at sea for eleven days, and in the jungle for two."

The Chief signalled to someone, and a large, muscled warrior stepped forward and lifted Tulio right off of Altivo. The man didn't complain. He immediately lost consciousness instead. Chief Tanni followed the warrior into a nearby building, as did a nervous Miguel.

"What are you going to do?" Miguel asked the chief.

"Heal him."

"How?"

"He needs rest to recover, and I have some old texts on natural remedies around here," the chief replied. "Somewhere," he added quietly. Miguel just smiled. Things were looking up.

A/N: Sorry I haven't been around in a while. Been busy. This chapter also sounds a little rushed, I know. I didn't want them spending too much time in the jungle or at sea. There's stuff to do in El Dorado. *foreboding music* Hope you enjoyed!


	9. Nightmare

Miguel slept alone that night, in the gods' temple, high above the city. It was the first time he'd slept alone since... well, since he'd run away with Tulio as a child. His dark haired comrade had always been close by, his steady breathing comforting to him, so far from anything that could ever be called a snore. Sometimes he'd wake up in the middle of the night to hear the last snort or a snore escape his mouth – he snored horribly loud, – and wondered how Tulio could sleep. As for tonight, he dreaded not waking up to see his friend twisted into some uncomfortable looking position, or sleeping calmly while facing him. He wanted to turn and find his familiar face, put an arm around him and pretend when he woke up that it had been an accident that had occurred while he'd been asleep.

The weather was cool, and somehow Miguel couldn't get warm. He shifted closer to the left side of the bed, (he'd been attempting to sleep on the far right,) only to realize that he would not find the warmth of another person there. Sighing sadly, he sprung up from the bed and heaped for blankets onto it, then snuggled down and squeezed his eyes shut. After a few minutes of waiting for the temperature under the covers to rise, Miguel fell asleep. Then he dreamed.

He ran down the stairs of the temple, trying not to stumble, and came into the house where he knew Tulio rested. Inside, he found Chief Tanni, but not Tulio.

"Where is he?" he asked, sounding a little worried.

Chief Tanni didn't answer. He just lifted a curtain to another room and let him enter. Miguel caught sight of the man standing over Tulio, and screamed.

"Chief Tanni? Chief Tanni!" he yelled, tearing out of the room and finding the Chief. "Why is he there?"

"Who, my Lord?"

"Tzekel-kan!" Miguel screeched. "Why is he near Tulio?"

"He is treating him," the Chief replied. Just then, the dreaded medicine man came out of the room.

"Well?" the Chief asked, blinking at Tzekel-kan.

"Delicious," he replied, licking blood from his lips and fingers. Miguel, horrified, ran back inside.

The room reeked of copper, and when Miguel went forward to see his friend, Tulio's eyes were squeezed shut. He coughed, blood pouring from his mouth.

"The tongue of the gods, if eaten, gives the consumer the power to control the elements and command man."

"You're crazy!" Miguel bellowed, charging the dark figure.

"The tears, eternal life," he continued, catching Miguel's arm and twisting it behind his back. The blond gasped.

"The eyes," the sadistic man purred in his ear, "the power to read the minds of those around them." Miguel stilled, though adrenalin raced through his veins. _Run! _His instincts screamed at him. _Run away!_

He was pushed roughly down, and looked up in time to see Tzekel-kan grab a handful of Tulio's black hair and pull him up. "A handsome creature isn't he?" he asked silkily. "God or no god, I will enjoy devouring him." Tulio reached a hand out desperately, just as the predator behind him traced his collarbone lovingly, and nuzzled his neck.

"Get away!" Miguel cried, lunging forward. Tzekel-kan bit down, and Miguel made a discovery: you didn't need a tongue to scream.

"No!" he cried, sitting upright in bed. He shook his head and rubbed his face. Nightmares. Only when he'd been a child had he had nightmares. Only when he was alone. When he'd snuck into his parents' room, he was fine. But otherwise... He'd grown out of them around the time Tulio had become his friend. Apparently he'd become so accustomed to having him around that being alone made them return.

Sighing in resignation, he got up and walked to the entrance hall. Outside, the sky was beginning to lighten, so he decided that he might as well get up. He walked slowly down the stairs, his legs burning by the time he'd gotten to the bottom, whether going down was easier than going up or not.

When he reached the bottom, a few of the citizens offered him food. He took an apple and nibbled contentedly, and went into the little house where he'd left Tulio in the care of the chief. What he found inside made his jaw drop.

There were at least a dozen bowls of different mixtures, each containing different combinations of ground herbs. Chief Tanni was in the middle of making a new batch of... something, while glancing occasionally at a book open on the table on his right. He hadn't yet noticed his visitor, made obvious by his quick movements and soft humming. He jumped up suddenly, patted his waistband and looking around, as if searching for something...

"There!" he chirped, which made Miguel jump. He reached over and grabbed a handful of what seemed to be green sprouts with tiny white buds on them, and began to grind them on a wooden board using a blunt tool. Miguel cleared his throat.

"Oh, Lord Miguel," the chief said, smiling up happily at him. "You're just in time! I needed help for the next part of the treatment." He quickly finished grinding the plant and added it to a bowl. He mixed quickly, and then spooned out some of the stuff onto a long strip of white cloth. "White's best, because you can see when you have to change the bandage," he explained happily.

"How is he?" Miguel asked nervously. The chief paused.

"We are currently bringing down his fever. The infections are being treated. Unfortunately the best way to treat any infection is to eat healthy foods with disease fighting properties, but it is quite difficult for a patient to eat when that patient won't stay conscious for very long." He stood by the door to the next room, waiting for the blond to go first.

Tulio was lying on a low table with a cloth draped over him, covering from his hips to just above his knees. Nothing else clothed him.

While Miguel had to take a second to lean against the doorway and resist the urge to jump his friend, the chief entered the room and smothered some more bandages with the mix in the bowl he'd brought in with him.

"Lord Miguel, if you might be so kind as to lift Lord Tulio?" he asked, gesturing at the brunette on the table. Miguel nodded.

Stepping up, he lifted his friend into a sitting position. Tulio, perfectly unconscious, merely continued to breathe steadily. Chief Tanni removed the bandages and replaced them with the new ones, which were covered in the, erm... goop that he'd prepared. Finished, he motioned for Miguel to lie Tulio back down, which he did all too happily. The blond also resisted the urge to look down, in case he was able to see under the cloth. It was similar to the skirts they'd worn at the celebration the last time they were here.

"If you'll excuse me, I've been up all night, and must retire. If you could watch him for any changes?" the chief asked, already out the door. "Just come get me if you need anything," he added. Miguel nodded.

Once they were alone, Miguel turned to Tulio. "Well, this has been an adventure," he told him, laying a hand on his chest. His friend didn't respond. Rubbing slow, lazy circles over the bandaged area, he thought of Cortez. What was the man doing?

Little did he know, his enemy had returned to the New World, in search of them. He wanted his prey back, and he wanted it now.


	10. Problems

Miguel spent the next few days the way he had the last time he'd been in El Dorado. He played sports with the villagers, entertained the children, played instruments and sang and danced. Well, he did this while periodically running to see if Tulio was improving. He couldn't tell how many good moods had been ruined by running to see his friend.

Tulio was improving, against all odds. He didn't wake up, and he was getting thinner, if that were at all possible. But the infections were healing, the skin was stitching itself back together, and the herb mixes spread over the bandages seemed to be helping. Color returned to his shallow cheeks, and he breathed easily all the time now. During the first two days Miguel had been spooked when his friend would suddenly begin gasping for air. It had been six days since they'd first arrived, and by now Miguel was confident that Tulio would fully recover, as was Chief Tanni.

None of this should ruin Miguel's mood. In fact, it should have cheered him. However, the fact that his friend was comatose bothered him. The other thing that bothered him was how he was drawn to the man. He was really upset when a few times, a problem had occurred while seeing Tulio. This problem made itself known by the tightening in Miguel's pants. A few times he'd run up the steps to the gods' chambers and jumped into the cold pool to get rid of the problem.

Sometimes he'd spend a few hours just sitting and talking to Tulio about whatever came to mind. Chief Tanni had warned the villagers that the gods wanted privacy, and when he left Miguel was free to say whatever he wanted without having to worry about being heard. He voiced his worries for the present and the future, for future plans and adventures they might have, and after a while he'd begin to talk about Tulio. How he needed him, how he missed him, how he wanted so badly to kiss him right now. He wondered if Tulio could hear him. He wasn't sure, but regardless he often began babbling, and told himself when this happened that when Tulio awoke, if he asked any questions about what Miguel had said, Miguel would deny having said anything to him. There'd been a few times when he'd inched the chair closer to the bedside so that he could reach out and touch his friend. He'd grab his hand or rub his shoulder gently. During those times, he'd find his eyes straying towards the sheet that covered the brunette's hips and thighs. It was during moments like these where a problem would arise. Literally.

He was in the middle of one of these moments when his friend stirred. His eyelids fluttered open, and he moaned softly, biting his lip. Miguel's eyes widened. That sound that he'd just made... it felt like the ties on his pants would snap. He leaned forward to try and cover that.

"Tulio?" asked Miguel, struggling to cover the huskiness in his voice. "How do you feel?"

"I feel like I'm wearing a helmet and someone is banging on it repeatedly," Tulio replied. He then glanced sharply down and back up, his eyes widening. "And, um..." He trailed off awkwardly.

Miguel couldn't help but look down, and saw what Tulio had been looking at. His pants constricted painfully. "Er," he muttered, and then glanced back upwards. "Morning wood?" he asked with forced lightness. Tulio lifted a hand to his eyes and nodded, grimacing.

"No problem," Miguel said, rising and getting a cloth from a bowl of cold water. He put the cloth around Tulio's neck; the brunette grunted in surprise at the icy feeling, and his problem dissipated.

This left one urgent problem, which was clearly noticeable. Miguel put the cloth around his own neck, but it didn't seem to work. Frowning, he sat on the chair and leaned over, resting his elbows on the table, where Tulio was laying.

"How long have we stayed here, Miguel?" the brunette asked, struggling to sit up. He gasped and started falling backwards. Miguel jumped up and grabbed him, and then slowly lowered him back down.

"Apparently not long enough for you to be walking around," Miguel replied, his tone chastising. Tulio groaned and fisted his hands on the cloth draped over him.

"Damn," he cursed, and he lifted his hands to his head and massaged his temples slowly. He paused, his eyes glittering momentarily, as if one of his plans was forming, but he frowned and continued massaging. "Damn," he repeated, as if that were all he could think of to say.

"It's not that bad here," Miguel told him, smiling hopefully. Now that his friend was awake, he was already jumping to the next dilemma: go back to Spain, explore the new world, or stay here? Although the second option was Miguel's personal favourite, he knew that Tulio would opt for the first, so maybe getting him to compromise and stay here for a few weeks would make it easier to convince him to travel afterwards. "Plus, in Spain, Cortez might be looking for us," he added. This, at least, was totally true.

"There was something I was going to say about that. Cortez, Cortez..." Tulio trailed off, pinching his chin between his thumb and forefinger. His face lit up as it came to him, and then darkened when his brain processed the information. "Cortez will be looking for us," he said, shivering.

Miguel wasn't quite so upset with this. "Why would he look for us? He's probably more interested in getting home," he said, grinning. "Besides, he couldn't follow us here. He doesn't know how to get in." Proud of himself, Miguel grinned.

"I'm sure he'd be able to track us," Tulio told him. He drummed his fingers on his exposed abdomen, which caused Miguel's problem to remind him of its presence with a painful throb. Miguel winced.

Tulio paused and looked over at Miguel. "Is what I'm saying upsetting you?" Tulio asked, flexing the fingers on his stomach. Miguel tore his eyes away from them to look into the brunette's eyes.

"N-no," he replied nervously. Tulio continued to drum his fingers. Miguel reached over and put his hand on top of Tulio's, stilling it. "Sorry, can you stop that? It's just... I don't know quite why it's bothering me, but it's bothering me." Not totally a lie, but he did know why. And if he didn't dunk the why in some cold water soon, he might run into some trouble.

Tulio gave him an irritated look, but when Miguel drew his hand away, he had stopped. Thankful, Miguel smiled.

"As I was saying," Tulio hissed through gritted teeth, which made Miguel feel a little bad for not having better control of himself, "Cortez will probably be trying to find us. As soon as I can stand, we're getting out of here. We can't go back to Spain, at least not yet, because he'll probably look for us there two. We'll have to travel the New World for a while, so that if he does track us here, he won't find us, and he'll make a lot less trouble for the people of El Dorado."

Unable to contain himself, Miguel jumped up and hugged Tulio, lifting him halfway off the table. This was exactly what he'd wanted! "Thank you, thank you, thank you!" he cried, squeezing his friend until he coughed. When he finally processed the sound of a mouth moving helplessly, unable to breathe in air, he dropped Tulio. The brunette hit the table hard and gasped to try and force air back into his winded chest. Unfortunately, Miguel was still riding the high from getting his way, and he kissed Tulio hard on the lips.

The two both realized what was happening at about the same time. Tulio, sucking in air sharply through his nose, shifted a little uncomfortably – he still hadn't caught his breath. Miguel was immediately horrified, and he jumped back suddenly.

"I'm sorry, I just sort of... you know," he explained.

Coughing, Tulio glanced at him. "Why don't you try that when I have _air _in my lungs?" he suggested, furrowing his brow at Miguel. The blonde frowned and, stepping back to the bedside, asked, "Why? Did you like it?"

Tulio turned bright pink and muttered something about Miguel being too damned excitable for his own good. Before it turned into a full on rant, Miguel kissed him again.

This time, Tulio reacted with shock. He lay still for a moment or two, and then his lips began to move with Miguel's. Miguel grabbed a handful of his hair and wrapped an arm around his slender waist, pulling him upwards. Adjusting his hold, he let Tulio back down, but he hugged him to himself. Tulio opened his mouth slightly and gasped, and Miguel took it as an invitation, sliding his tongue into the other's mouth, exploring it freely. Tulio whimpered in the back of his throat, and Miguel smiled against his lips. The brunette slipped his arms around Miguel's neck, clinging to him desperately. Miguel broke the kiss, but instead of letting go, he placed butterfly-light kisses along the other's jaw line, working his way up to his ear. He nibbled delicately on the earlobe, eliciting a soft moan from his friend. Miguel kissed his way back down, stopping at his collarbone, nipping and sucking at the skin there. Tulio arched upwards to him, sighing with pleasure, tightening his grip on the other's shoulders. Miguel finished with a hard kiss on the lips, before he stood and admired his handiwork.

Tulio's lips were red and swollen, and a line of hickies trailed along his neck and collarbone. His eyes were hooded, and his breath came in pants and gasps, interlaced with the odd quiet moan. Miguel smiled wickedly.

Turning, he took the cloth from the basin of cool water and draped it along Tulio's neck. "Tell Chief Tanni it's mosquito bites," he murmured, and walked away, pausing at the door.

"Good-bye for now, darling," he said over his shoulder. Tulio muttered a small "Later," in return.

Miguel then went to the top of the gods' temple. Needless to say, both men had problems get rid of.


End file.
